


Little Red. Big bad.

by Dark_Frejya



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Biting, Chases, Creampie, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fucking, Hair-pulling, Maledom, Maledom/Femsub, No Plot/Plotless, Oral Sex, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-19 23:03:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22072399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Frejya/pseuds/Dark_Frejya
Summary: Don’t walk alone in the woods, and sure as hell don’t play with the big bad wolf because these fangs are sharp and will bite back.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Original Female Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 227





	Little Red. Big bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Geralt / OFC  
> Warning: Smut, plotless smut, explicit, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral, maledom/female sub fun stuff.  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own the Witcher.
> 
> Read. comment, give feedback, reblog, enjoy.

The big bad wolf glares at me. His nostrils flaring, between his thick eyebrows a deep wrinkle and if a look could strangle I’d be choked to death right now. 

I can’t resist it any more. I think I might be blushing, can he tell?

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He barks at me, his brow furrowing even more. His sword is still in his hand, his face, and hair covered with mud and blood from the gruesome battle he just took part in, all to save my life. 

“I was going to visit my…”

“Damn it, girl!!!” he yells, looking all around him with frustration and fury “how is it then that whenever you’re around trouble follows and I have to be the one to deal with that shit!? A fucking Foglet!! Do you know how rare they are to encounter?! Are you a fucking beasts magnet?”

I look at him surprised, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard him speak ever since we’ve met the first time. “You know I didn’t mean to get attack”. I dare to answer, even though it seems like he is getting more furious by the minute. 

Geralt inhales sharply between clenched teeth, probably trying to hold himself back but failing miserably. It’s as if this man has two possible emotions, apathetic and angry. It seems I keep falling on the latter. 

“You know what, Claudia? This is the last time.” He turns his back to me and sheaths his sword back without even bothering to clean it. The corpse of the Foglet is laid on the ground next to his feet and he kneels down to it, beginning to harvest whatever important organs are there.

The stench is unbearable, I curl my nose and cover my mouth with my red scarf while looking at the large man working the beast. “Fine.” I speak beneath my hand “I can handle my self.”

“Like hell you do.” He answers sarcastically, a grunt escapes his mouth. Still trying to keep his anger under control I imagine he is now mutilating the dead corpse rather than doing anything of that sort to me. I kind of wish these hands were on me right now, I kind of hate myself for thinking that. His shoulders rise up and down as he breathes so heavily, he is still all worked up from the heat of battle. Perhaps I should offer him the wine in my basket? 

“Geralt… Do you…?”

“I don’t want to hear it”. He growls under his breath. Not even bothering to look at me. That’s enough for me. I bite the inside of my cheek and put on my cowl, turning away and beginning to pace back to where I was heading. There is still a little bit of daylight left, perhaps if I’ll walk fast I can make it before dark.

“The hell you are!” A large hand grasps at my shoulder forcefully, pulling me back around. I am facing a very tall and angry Witcher. 

“Oh?” I exclaim “I thought I can go get killed whenever I want. “No more saving my life, right?”

The Witcher narrows his eyes at me, his jaw clenched tightly. 

“And how the hell did you even find me?” I suddenly realized he wasn’t even supposed to be in this town “Were you… stalking me?!”

He remains quiet, staring down at my face. His hand still holds my shoulder tightly, it’s beginning to hurt but somehow it only makes me want to plaster my body to his and I can’t do anything but resist that urge. He is so dangerously close that I am breathing in his scent. I am terrified by the thought that he might smell the growing dampness between my legs.

“You were!!! Do you fucking think I am some pretty virgin who can’t defend herself?! Is that some sort of a twisted damsel in distress fantasy you have?!” The dead frown on his face is now softened by a small grin full of mockery. 

“Trust me, no one in ever thinks you’re a virgin.”

Fucking pig! I grunt like an animal and knee his stomach with all my might, only accidentally missing his groin. Geralt’s grip is finally loosened and I exploit this advantage to escape him. 

I pace quickly down the muddy path, hearing him growling with pain and anger behind me. 

“I should have listened to my grandmother, Witchers are a fucked up folk. Her words, precisely” I yell as I leave him there behind. 

“Claudia.” I hear him bark. I turn back and see him walking fast. I begin to run, my heart racing of the thought of what will happen once he catches me. The Witcher is strong yet heavy, I am smaller and like to think fo myself as an agile person but my legs are shuddering for some reason, I can hardly feel them as my boots sink into the mud with each hasty step I make and there when I can almost see the light of the clearing, his hand finds my hair.

He tugs it roughly, pulling me back with such might that my back flies against his hard chest. 

I attempt to struggle by instinct, crying out until I find myself onto the muddy ground, wrists pinned above my head by one strong hand and a look of pride greeting me.

His breath is warm against my face as he observes me “You really thought you can outrun a Witcher. That’s cute.” He nearly pouts in mockery. 

I am drowning in his musk and the proximity terrified me. I am breathing heavily, still attempting to struggle free which only makes the smirk on his muddy face grow larger. If Geralt doesn’t want me to be free then I certainly going nowhere. 

His eyes pierce into mine silently and then he bites his lower lip. There is a mixture of anger and something else there, something dark. The grip around my wrists is tightened, even more, possibly leaving a bruise.

“Kick me again, please.” He suggests darkly and it’s only meant to provoke me seeing his legs are forced between mine. 

“Trust me next time I am not gonna miss.” I banter breathless. My glance falls on his perfect jawline, admiring the cleft of his chin and the stubbles of his face. My thoughts travel from wanting to be set free to wanting to have that chin against my neck and between my thighs.

“You have no idea what kind of things I want to do to you right now…” he murmurs darkly. With every deep breath he takes, his chest sinks into mine and it’s making it harder for me to breathe, I can hardly come by with any comeback other than a hoarse unconvincing “Get off of me, beast”. 

I can feel his free hand on my breast, his thumb slowly brushing against the fabric to find my nipple. I sigh so loudly someone would have thought I was a virgin. “Did your grandmother warn you about being defiled by Witchers?” his lips find my throat and I hiss as he nips at my skin. The sensation of his stubbles grazing my neck is even more divine than I thought. I squirm beneath him helplessly, my groin attempting to meet his, my legs bucking up in wanton. 

His lower body remains still, painfully patient while I am flooding with desire. My red skirt is riding up my thighs as I move and I can feel the leather of his trousers touching my skin. It’s driving me insane. There is a hollow feeling inside me that can only be fixed by having him, deep, deep, as deeper as possible.

“Geralt…” I moan for him. “I want you”

Yes, I’ve had from the moment I first saw you. 

He pulls away from me, letting go of my hands and kneeling between my thighs, his eyes burning into my body. I lean on my elbows, only now realizing I can hardly feel my palms. There are already red bruises that tomorrow will probably turn blue.

“Don’t move.” He commands and looks at me while beginning to take his leather armour. He doesn’t need to ask, I am not going anywhere. His body is a masterpiece, shoulders and chest broad and strong with stiff muscles and the scars on his body are like glorified medals he wears. 

He reaches to his belt and I shiver when the sound of the metal clinking fill my ears. Well, it’s no surprise he is well endowed, perhaps too well endowed. 

“Don’t worry, you can take it” he replies to the astonished look of my face. 

It doesn’t seem like I have a choice. 

Even though he told me not to move I sit up, my hands gently resting on his chest, stroking the hairs and the sweat and sensing the ridges of his scars. I dare to kiss his thick neck and work my way up to his jaw and chin. He allows it to go on, groaning deep against my tender touch, until I am pushed back down with his hand pinning my chest down.

“Let me look at you” he says as his hands tug at the laces of my dress. In mere seconds I am naked on the ground. His rough palms stroke my skin, his dirty hands leaving traces along my ribs, my groin and my thighs. I move to his touch, closing my eyes, humming. He is anything but tender yet for some reason I feel like no one turned me on as much as he is.

His hands stop beneath my breasts, his thumbs pushing deep against bones as he lowers himself to kiss me. First, his tongue licks my lips, playing my mouth to open so he can push inside and devour my mouth with his. I whimper, again, sounding like a virgin who never been kissed, I am certain this does nothing but make him laugh. He breaks from my lips only to trail down my body, his lips and teeth are on my throat, and chest, biting at my breast, nibbling at the side of my stomach. Fangs closing around my thigh and I yelp in pain as I feel the skin breaking between his sharp blades.

“Fuck you, Geralt!”

He smirks while his hands force my thighs open. I tremble in his grasp and I swear I can hear myself begging “Please, don’t bite me there”

He gives me a slanted grin “Aren’t you sorry for kicking me, now?”

I gasp trying to wriggle free with panic but his grip is iron and his head is already between my thighs. Instead of teeth, I am teased by his lips, his hot breath grazes my cunt just before he sinks down and eats me out as if was some delight, I arch with pleasure, my hands reaching to his head, grasping at his silver hair while his mouth fucks me.

He seems to fully enjoy it, not just the torture that he causes but the act itself. He hums as his tongue flicks around my folds exploringly, finding my clit and suckling it. 

He brings me so dangerously close and stops when I’m on the brink of ecstasy. Before I can complain his entire body covers mine, his waist lies heavily between my legs. I reach my hands to stroke at his beautiful face but he quickly grabs them and pins them above my head yet against. 

“After I’m done with you…” he growls, one hand disappearing between our bodies as he reaches for his hard cock. “You won’t be able to want any other man.”

I cry out, feeling the head of his erection teasing my wetness “I’m going to tear you apart.” he promises darkly and enters me with a rough shove. I bite at his shoulder to hold my scream, tasting hot blood on my tongue right away. Geralt growls and lifts up a bit, it only makes him drill me harder, pushing me back against the ground with the might of his movement.

“You are so fucking tight.” He groans, pulling back all the way until he is nearly out and then back again with a forceful thrust. “Fuck you feel good.” 

I cry out for him, pushing to meet each of his thrusts. No one ever fucked me like this, he is giving me pleasure, he is giving me pain and instead of asking him to stop I am moaning and granting all of myself to him. With his hand still around my wrists, he lowers his lips to my forehead, kissing the top of my head and brow before whispering in my ear.

“Do you like this, Claudia? Having a mutant defiled your pink pussy?”

“Yes.” I hiss, feeling him go deeper, my cunt expanding to fit his thick cock. He was right, I can take it. I want more. “Fuck, Geralt… I can’t…”

I can feel him all, his ridges, his veins, the way he slides in and out of me with effort, pushing against the resistance of my body. 

He grabs my face and holds my jaw, looking down at me while drilling me vigorously, we pant and cry against each other’s mouths, both astonished by pleasure. “Want me to come inside you?” he asks, his voice cutting off by the moans of his pleasure as I become tighter, and tighter, sucking him deeper into me if that was even possible. The question alone sends shivers down my spine, I gasp, feeling my orgasm drawing near “Yes, I want to feel you! Harder! Please!”

“I was going to even if you said no” He chuckles darkly, pounding me mercilessly, riding me hard and rough until I come trembling all around him. He takes me so hard, I scream the birds away from the forest. He follows me into pleasure, grunting like an animal, his entire body towers up as he buries himself balls deep inside me, filling me with his hot liquid. He remains there for a few seconds, letting every drop into my cunt. I mewl at the warm sensation of him inside me and the anticipation of it later trickling down.

Finally he growls and then lowers himself to meet my gaze. His lips find my forehead in a lingering kiss. 

“Now, let’s get dressed and go visit your grandma” 


End file.
